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Rust works nights, days, backshift, rust is the king of the graveyard shop floor.

Rust eats. Oh yes, rust noshes in wet and dry. Rust makes a meal of it as the sun goes down where the rain is a stranger, and rust has appetizer, vorshpeiz, mains, sides, rust makes a side of your car.

Rust eats doors better than any arch-villain's fake fangs or teeth. Rust digests your old sinking vehicle just as you have seen when you photographed the mouse going down the snake.

Rust is pitiless like the weather. Rust is the henchman of Mother Nature. Rust is under no orders, and when it comes to cars, rust went rogue, and we went pedestrian.